Burn Bright
by Asallia
Summary: Things have died down since the days of Spartoi, Maka and Kid have moved in together, and Soul hasn't managed the transition to a peaceful life well. He decides to leave Death City for two years, but how will he deal with the changes he returns to? Eventual SoulxTsubaki.
1. Chapter 1: Leaving

Chapter 1: Leaving

There were two things Soul "Eater" Evans didn't enjoy at all: reminiscing and drinking. Yet here he was, downing a beer and wondering where all the time had gone. The 3-year anniversary of the Battle on the Moon and the defeat of Asura was tomorrow, and Soul couldn't help but feel a grand sense of irony about the event.

 _The Last Death Scythe, the symbol of the DWMA's future. The coolest goddamn dude in Death City. And_ I'm _the one looking back at the past._

He really couldn't help himself though. Between all the batshit insanity going on during the days of Spartoi and the always-present sense of doom, those were the best years of his life. He and Maka had been an unstoppable team back then, and he doubted anyone would disagree. There was a reason he was one of the youngest Death Scythes in history, after all. He had a kick-ass meister (though he wouldn't say that to her face) and they were always in sync.

Kid was planning the party of the century for the event, and everybody at the DWMA was invited. The day marked the anniversary of a new era for the school, after all, and Kid had made sure to plan celebrations as meticulously as only he could for the occasion. Luckily for Soul, he had succeeded in avoiding the draft to help prepare – not like he didn't have anything better to do. But tonight seemed like a night to wallow in his self-pity before being forced to attend tomorrow and having to see everyone.

"Ready for another drink, Soul?" The bartender came over to the last customer of the night with a look that hid an ounce of concern, but he was clearly happy to have the business. Soul had been one of his most loyal regulars, after all.

"Nah, I gotta get home before I'm too wasted to drive."

"You can't call anyone to come give you a lift?"

Soul just shrugged as he paid off his tab and quickly walked out the door with a swagger that didn't betray his melancholy, then hopped on his motorbike to head back home.

Driving through this city gave Soul conflicting feelings normally, but this evening he felt more torn than ever over his adopted home town. It made him who he was – when he ran away from the East Coast and reinvented himself as Soul Eater, weapon at the DWMA, the city became a key part of his identity. It seemed to burn bright with life and excitement, and it enthralled him in a way that life back home never could have. But lately, it seemed to suck what life it had given him right back out as he wandered the streets on nights like this. He couldn't help but feel cooped up. And after he became the Last Death Scythe, he was tied to the city even more than he had been previously. He was trapped, that was the only way to look at it.

As Soul reached his apartment and walked inside, it was hard to ignore the deafening silence that seemed to envelope the room – he tried, of course, but never could find the will to forget about it. It had a standard of living equatable with any other self-proclaimed bachelor pad in the city: clothes strewn everywhere, dishes piling up, and the lethargy in which its sole inhabitant lived. He flicked on the lights and made a beeline for his room, where he pulled an old guitar from the closet and did a half-assed tuning job before strumming a few chords.

He laid down on his bed and plucked a simple little melody he heard that morning while on his way to the DWMA. It wasn't much, but it had an exotic feel to it that had intrigued him at the time. As he played, he tossed around an old idea in his head, one that came back from time to time: he should just leave. Next chance he got. Traveling the world for a year or so didn't sound too bad to him, and given his level of isolation outside of work he doubted anyone would even notice. Hell, the party would be as good a time as any to do it. He could go to the party, make sure Kid gets a few drinks, then talk him into letting his premier weapon pick up and leave.

The reaper still had Spirit, after all, who had yet to retire much to Soul's irritation. In fact, he wasn't sure he could find a way that anyone even needed him here except as a figurehead for the successes of the DWMA. Death knows that there were plenty of other people to do the menial work while he was gone. He knew the friends he had here all cared, but lately he couldn't believe it. Over the last year he had truly felt alone for the first time since coming to Death City. Before then things had been great, but suddenly he no longer saw the students he had fought with – he saw adults trying to find their place in a world without the need for warriors, who were discovering their own uniqueness. It felt like he saw them one day and forgot what had initially connected them so long ago.

As Soul pondered his dumb idea of the day, it began to seem less and less dumb. Hell, it was almost beginning to sound smart. It wasn't unrealistic, he knew that much. And as he began to drift to sleep, he couldn't help but think he should just go for it.

* * *

It was a standard evening in Death City; the sun wasn't quite ready to stop being oppressively bright, and life seemed to be moving along remarkably well for a city in the middle of nowhere. Soul was walking up the steps of the DWMA in his signature pinstripe suit and red dress shirt, but they weren't liberating now like they were in the black blood dreams (Maka had laughed when he decided to buy one in real life, but even she didn't disagree that it looked pretty damn good). It only felt constricting in the heat.

He hated parties with a burning passion, and Kid knew that, but it would've been wrong for him not to attend, considering he was pivotal to the event it was commemorating. So after some convincing on Kid's part, he had sucked it up and agreed to appear, though Soul seemed to question his motives for doing so. Lately, he had felt like the figurehead of Kid's new agenda as Lord Death, which by all means was a good one, but an agenda nonetheless. It was the same reason Soul had been kept in Death City so much, too preoccupied with Death Scythe work at the DWMA to even think of doing missions with Maka. Her and Black Star seemed to get all the fun lately.

Soul suddenly felt a slap on his shoulder, and turned around to come face to face with the one and only blue haired meister, with Tsubaki right beside him. _Speak of the devil_ , he thought.

With his usual enthusiasm, Black Star began "Heya Soul, we were wondering if you'd even show up! I actually thought you were just gonna disappear on us like normal for the night but-"

Tsubaki gave him a swift elbow that was less subtle than she surely thought, and without skipping a beat he took the hint and shifted his tone a bit. "Anyways, glad you could make it, I'm gonna steal the mic from Kid tonight and proclaim to all how great the amazing Black Star is and-"

Soul cut him off as well, to save them all from the agony of a signature Black Star rant. "Yeah, great, but you know there's some kids over there that look like they'd _love_ your autograph."

Black Star's head immediately jerked to where Soul was pointing. "WHERE? I'll be right back Soul, this is important." He quickly took off, and Soul shook his head and laughed. He couldn't believe the guy sometimes. He looked back at Tsubaki and saw she had a similar expression on her face.

"So how's life been treating you two?" Soul asked. He hadn't talked to the two of them in a few weeks as they had just recently returned from a mission in Argentina, so it was a nice chance to catch up.

"We've been doing good, thanks. Black Star's the same as ever," she said with a small smile. "How have you been holding up lately?" She had a subtle, worried frown on her face as she spoke this time. The woman was too perceptive for her own good, Soul thought, and too motherly - but he always appreciated her kindness. Though the two never talked much, they shared an unmistakable bond that seemed to be a commodity lately.

"Yeah, listen, if everything goes my way this might be my last night in Death City for a while. If I can get Kid to agree, I'm gonna head out tomorrow and travel abroad for a year or so. I don't think I can keep up this Last Death Scythe gig much longer," he said with a sigh.

Though he may not have stated his reasoning, Tsubaki knew well enough what that was. Things had changed a lot over the last few years, and Soul was hit hardest by it. His job had kept him from missions the whole time, and though she couldn't help but feel a little envious he didn't have to do any fighting, she understood how infuriating it would be to reach Death Scythe status only to stop being able to battle kishin. Under the same circumstances, all of their friends would have gone stir crazy too.

She sighed as well and said, "I guess I understand. But we'll miss you, you know, so don't completely cut yourself off. Maka would-"

"Yeah, well, I don't care what Maka would do." He said those words with a fierceness that made Tsubaki shudder. "I'll keep in touch with you guys, don't worry. You'll know I'm alive."

Black Star, showing surprisingly good timing, showed up to ease the tension, this time with Patty in tow. Soul figured the two were doing whatever it was that they did without any supervision, which was a scary thought even now that they were adults.

"Hey, you weren't kidding, Soul did show up!" Patty came up to him and gave him a hug, which Soul very awkwardly reciprocated – he saw Black Star giving him a shit-eating grin from behind Patty, they all knew that Soul was touchy about personal space but Patty never seemed to mind, much to Soul's chagrin. "How's our favorite death scythe? Here to party it up?"

Soul smiled, Patty's infectious joy never quite got old to him, even after all these years. "Hell yeah, you know it!" It was one of his more egregious lies, but Patty didn't need to know that.

The group walked into the ball room, and even Soul was impressed by the extravagance of the decorations. Kid had really outdone himself, and they all knew that wasn't an easy feat. Though his issues with OCD had always been rough on him, no one could deny it makes him an outstanding party host. And standing right in the middle of the spectacle were Kid, Liz, and Maka, who seemed to be discussing something, though he couldn't quite tell what.

Soul walked up to them and uttered a quick, "Kid. Liz. Maka. Sup." The thought of talking to Kid was getting to him, making him terser than he'd like, and he wasn't sure how well they'd take his little idea either.

Maka was clearly hurt by his quick, cold introduction, and Soul couldn't help but notice Kid squeeze her hand a bit. _And there goes the power couple_ , Soul thought bitterly. He wasn't the type to get jealous, but the sight of those two made his stomach lurch. When Maka first told him of their relationship a year and a half ago, Soul was beyond angry, but stomached it and simply wished her well. He was a calm, collected guy, no reason to let that end. He just hoped they wouldn't last long so he could make the move he had always wanted to make.

Of course, the universe decided to act against that wish. They lasted all right, and ten months ago Soul had to watch her pack her things and move in with Kid. Soul regarded this moment as the divider of his current life as a Death Scythe: pre- and post-move. He realized that in retrospect he had become a terrible partner after the news finally sank in, but that didn't stop him from grasping onto that moment as the nail in the coffin for his mental health and isolation. And here she was with the one responsible.

Soul kept his face serious, and looked squarely at Kid. "Hey, Kid, can we talk for a minute in private?" His original plan may have been to get the man drunk first, but now that Soul was here there seemed like no point to it. This was the kind of conversation you don't beat around the bush to get to.

"For the last time Soul, at _least_ call me Lord Death around all these people. You know I don't use Kid anymore."

Soul just grinned and motioned over to a secluded corner with some spare chairs sitting around. Soul had never been the verbose type, especially not now, so the two walked over in silence before taking their places.

"Look, Kid, I'm going to cut the shit and talk to you about this. I want to get out of this city. Wait, no. I _need_ to." Kid looked absolutely dumbfounded and made no attempt to interrupt. _Looks like I'm going for the shock and awe tactic_ , thought Soul.

"I'm going to go crazy if I don't find some room to breathe, you know that better than anyone by now. Let me go travel for a year or two."

Kid was still clearly trying to process the bomb that had been dropped, but Soul could only imagine that Kid wasn't surprised. He probably just hadn't expected something like this to rear its head on such a celebratory day.

"What makes you think I can even make this happen? You're going to be the last Death Scythe, why in hell would I let you go like this?"

"Look, don't act like you _really_ need me, _Lord Death._ " Soul tried to make those last words sound playful but he was pretty sure they only came out as caustic. _Whoops_. "You've still got Spirit, and I'll bet you anything he'll avoid retirement just to spite me at this point. Set me up with a post in Oceania for all I care, I'd barely see any action and you still get to show off your star weapon in whatever publicity stunt the DWMA is pulling next."

"For the love of death," Soul snickered at the irony of what Kid had just said but he didn't seem to notice, "it's just recruitment practices. Alright, look. How the hell am I going to get you back when I need you?"

"It's easy, I'll keep a crisis line just for you, red phone and everything. When your world is ending hit me up any time and I'll come save you."

Kid looked at him with a newly collected demeanor and tried to ignore Soul's trademark bragging before replying in a calm voice, "I don't see why not. I suppose you deserve it, after all. I'll change your assignment from Death City to, well, something. Oceania perhaps, like you suggested."

Soul breathed a sigh of relief and patted Kid on the back. "Knew I could count on you. We'll figure it out tomorrow and then I'll head out."

Kid's jaw dropped once again. " _Tomorrow?"_ But Soul was already long gone to where the food was situated. The rest of the night went smoothly, and Soul actually wound up enjoying himself for the evening, to his amazement. Up until he was leaving and bumped into Maka outside the doors of DWMA.

"Oh, sorry Maka, didn't see you there," Soul said with a blank expression on his face.

"SORRY?" Oh boy. This didn't sound like it was going well. She had obviously had one too many drinks, likely after Kid had dropped the news on her. "Were you going to tell me at some point that you were planning on LEAVING DEATH CITY?" Maka slapped Soul hard across the face with a look that would leave even Black Star trembling. "What is your problem, Soul? Is your 'lonely, bitter asshole' shtick getting old yet?"

Suddenly, all of Soul's stoicism vanished in an instant. He had never seen her like this, not during a single one of their fights.

Maka continued, "What happened to us? What did I ever do to you? Why won't you talk to me…"

Soul couldn't help but think of his first piano recital, when the entire world seemed to come to a standstill while his parents and a hundred people scrutinized every note he played. It was more terrifying than anything else in the world until this moment, in which he felt just as helpless under Maka's gaze.

"I…" Soul paused; he had no clue what to say. Really, there wasn't anything to say at all. They were both crushed, they cared so deeply about each other, and yet he couldn't even begin to speak the truth. _I love you, Maka._ So he started walking, and turned around to say the only thing he could honestly mean: "I'm sorry."

* * *

A/N: This story was _very_ loosely inspired by the My Chemical Romance song Burn Bright (I know, an angsty fic based on MCR is pretty cheesy). As much as I love SoMa, I was really interested to see how Soul would fair without her - as it turns out, not very well. The fic is eventually going to be SoulxTsubaki, but it's not the center of the story I want to tell so it'll likely come later on. Anyways, please let me know what you think! I've never written fiction before so I'd appreciate any feedback.


	2. Chapter 2: Homecoming

Chapter 2: Homecoming

A/N: Sorry about the wait. :c

To be perfectly honest, I'm not entirely sure what the future of this fic is - my heart just isn't really in it right now, and it's been a long time since I read the manga. That being said, I had this chapter and a third one lying around and I figured there was no harm in tidying them both up a bit and publishing them. This isn't to say I _won't_ finish the fic, but there are enough people following this thing that I don't want to set anyone's expectations too high.

* * *

 **Two Years Later**

A white-haired weapon stood still by the door, staring silently at a single letter that had been pushed through the mail slot as he read a book. It was marked with a large DWMA logo in the top right; Death himself had come knocking, in a way. After two years of isolation from powers beyond his control, it was the reality check that he had refused to believe would come. He bent down and gently took it in his hand, as if it would simply turn to dust if he handled it improperly.

Hesitating for a fleeting instant, he transformed his finger into a blade that sliced the envelope clean open. Inside was a small newsletter, containing a single story: Spirit Albarn was finally retiring after one of the most successful runs as a death scythe in history. Soul Evans, Death's Last Weapon, was set to succeed him. It wasn't exactly shocking to hear. Spirit had always been one of the biggest faces of the DWMA until Soul became his equal, and after Soul's sudden departure the man likely adored the opportunity to step back into the limelight for a while - but everyone eventually grows older eventually.

Soul hadn't given Spirit much thought in the intervening time period though, having instead opted to insulate himself as much as possible from the academy's goings on. He was much happier running his little corner of the world – better known as Oceania - from his home in rural New Zealand, where he had settled down for his temporary posting.

After scanning the letter for what must have been the fifth time, he opened the door and stepped outside into the driveway of his small home and leaned against the inconspicuous white sedan that rested in front of the porch. Looking out at the rugged landscape in silent thought, he took a long gaze that would be one of his last for quite a while. He never meant to stay here forever, but this little home, nestled at the base of the Southern Alps far away from any city, meant the world to him at a time in his life when he needed as much space as he could get. It was Autumn, and the leaves fell around him with an almost pensive movement, circling about in the air as if they were staving off the cold touch of the ground. As Soul stood there, only the looming presence of a coming storm would prompt his return inside to begin packing.

Oceania had been either the most or least envious destination depending on which death scythe you asked – it was relatively easy work compared to other postings, so a workaholic like Azusa would have gone crazy while most others would drool at the thought of a breezy job – he knew for a fact that Marie had loved the posting. To Soul, though, that meant that between coordinating DWMA missions and recruitment, he was free to get out into the field himself for some real action or relax on the tropical beaches (he preferred the former). He had partnered up with a local prodigy of a meister, a deceptively cute 19 year old Maori girl named Maia. She had an intense love for the region coupled with a fiery passion for combat, meaning that they defended Oceania better than he ever would have imagined together. He had the best times of his recent life fighting kishin with her, everywhere from the deep jungles of New Guinea to the scorching hot Australian outback, but things had never quite clicked between the two of them the way he had hoped.

There were always a few folded up cardboard boxes squirreled away at the back of Soul's closet, so he made a beeline as soon as he was inside and folded them up to start the painful moving process. As he worked, enough dust had flown off the boxes that he had to take a minute to brush it off his clothes. Soul chuckled to himself quietly. _There has to be a metaphor here, somewhere._ First came the myriad of memories littered across his desk in the corner: albums he had bought at local gigs, pizza menus, little trinkets he had picked up from flea markets all around the Pacific islands. Each had a tiny piece of his being nestled within them, but that was the Soul who had lived here. Now, a different Soul was needed elsewhere. He held a trash bag below the desk, throwing away almost everything that was found there without mercy - except for his CDs. One day he'd be able to get rid of the music, but not right now.

The day went on, with each bit of his life either left behind or packed to return with him with an efficiency that felt almost cruel. Soul had always contained in him some amount of sentimentality that he would never admit to having, but he also felt the need to deny himself that sentiment at times, if only to prove that everything was fleeting. Maybe it was masochistic. _It probably_ is _masochistic_ , he thought.

He grimaced slightly, an expression subtle enough to be lost in the evening glow as the oranges and pinks of the sunset poured into the increasingly empty bedroom. As Soul turned around, though, he came face to face with a girl standing in the doorway, bathed in those very same hues.

"I knew you'd be needing to leave as soon as I heard the news, but you could at least pretend that you don't want to go, Soul."

Maia leaned against the door frame and folded her arms, giving him a sly grin that somehow didn't strike Soul as very humorous. "Am I going to see you again?"

She wore an unassuming DWMA t-shirt with shorts and sneakers, her hair done into a sloppy bun – she never felt the need for formality around him, yet alone for clothes that weren't as comfy as possible.

"Maybe. I'm not sure right now." Soul gave his best poker face and spoke quietly, without intonation; he wasn't really planning on saying goodbye to her at all. "Thanks for dropping by though."

The silence in the room at that very moment was oppressive to Soul, circling around him and cornering him – it was an unspoken accusation of the very thing he didn't want to admit. Soul walked slowly, dragging his feet to the base of the bare mattress that lay on the floor and sat down on it before letting out a deep sigh.

"I'm scared of going back to the mess I made."

"I know, Soul. You weren't ever hard to read."

"I'm guessing you knew I'd try and bail like this?" Soul let a weary smile cross his face, looking her in the eye as she did the same.

"Of course, you loser." She walked toward him with a swiftness that surprised him, sitting down on the floor with crossed legs immediately in front of him. "You're going to be fine."

Soul scratched his head, looking at the floor while he thought of what to say next; this kind of talk wasn't his specialty. "I'll miss fighting with you though, we made a pretty cool team, huh?"

Maia laughed. "We absolutely did. Well, me more than you. You weren't too sloppy though." She gave him a gentle jab and a smirk that felt too familiar for comfort before standing up. Soul sensed she was holding something back when she then proceeded to give him a quick peck on the cheek and casually made her way to the door. "Just… promise I'll talk to you again, okay?"

Soul wore his best lopsided grin and put his hands behind his head as she started to leave. "You bet." Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn't. He sensed that she knew that as well, but didn't want to think it. She deserved better than him.

As he flopped onto the mattress that night, surrounded by his entire life packed into a few boxes, he sighed and looked out at the night sky that had blanketed the mountains above.

* * *

Soul got some stares at the pristine Death City International Airport, to say the least. To see the beloved death scythe suddenly appear out of thin air after two long years of keeping from the press was bound to turn some eyes, and it didn't help that Soul was impossibly easy to pick out of a crowd thanks to his distinctive snow-white hair. Suddenly, he regretted the fact that he couldn't ever bring himself to hide it with a hat. He had been home for all of 5 seconds when that familiar pressure started – the pressure of a name and a reputation, much like the life he ran away from when he enrolled at the DWMA. Evans or Eater, pianist or scythe, it seemed that he wouldn't ever be able to escape from who he was, so he took it in stride as he always had.

With nothing but a suitcase and his shitty old guitar, Soul stepped out into the sweltering Nevada sun and took a long look at the academy, visible from all the way out of town where he had landed - almost like a mirage in the desert heat. _Looks like I'm home._ He started heading for a cab when he heard something he wasn't expecting:

"Soul! Over here!"

He didn't believe it, but when he turned he saw Tsubaki and Liz, waving him over from across the parking lot and yelling his name as loud as they possibly could. How had they even figured out when to be here? He had made a point not to mention to anyone but Kid when he was getting in, though it was inevitably going to be common knowledge that he was coming back at all, since Spirit had stepped down.

He started heading that way, only to be greeted by two of the biggest hugs he'd ever gotten from each of them.

"Hey buddy, how was the other side of the planet?" Liz was grinning as she spoke.

Tsubaki continued, "We all really missed you, Soul."

Soul gave the signature lopsided grin he was known for. "I know." Tsubaki smiled at him, seemingly unphased by the response, but Soul was pretty sure he saw Liz rolling her eyes in his peripheral vision.

As they took off in Liz' SUV, the three began to catch up. Soul told them about his work in Oceania and about Maia with a dramatic flair that made the last year sound significantly more high stakes than it was – he was still just as happy to use some hyperbole to maintain his reputation as the DWMA's premier badass, after all. Liz asked him all kinds of questions while she drove, and Tsubaki listened with rapturous attention while Soul talked.

"So… you know I have to ask, Soul. Did you hit that?"

Soul sputtered, then quickly collected himself: "Nah, she wasn't my type. Way below my league, and way too flat-chested." As usual, his facade of bravado wasn't the whole truth. He felt _something_ for her, though it was hardly romantic. She had tried to come onto him once, late at night while they sat together on the beach. They had just slain a kishin, and they collapsed there as the tide rolled in, laughing and panting from the thrill of their victory. That was when she leaned in to kiss him, but he didn't reciprocate - he pushed her away, trying his best not to think about the heartbreak plastered across every inch of her face. It just hadn't felt right at the time, and the last thing he wanted was to lead her on. So he let her down as gently as he could. Things were awkward for a while after that.

Liz rolled her eyes at Soul's words, not thinking about the deeper meaning of them. "One of these days you're going to find someone, even if it takes a century. A good chunk of us have at this point, me included. Hell, even Tsubaki has tested the dating waters, I wasn't sure if she even knew what sex was."

Tsubaki turned bright red and crossed her arms. "I'm not a child, you know…"

Soul just laughed and turned to her. "Really, now? Who has the honor?"

"Black Star. At least, until we broke up last month."

Soul was flabbergasted, but Liz chimed in before he could express it: "Yeah, I still don't believe it, even now. You really felt that way for him?"

Tsubaki stared out the window and sighed a bit. "Yeah, he's kind and thoughtful, even if he is a bit self-absorbed at times..."

Soul hopped into the discussion. "Well that's putting it lightly, I can't even begin to imagine how one-sided that must have been."

"You're more right than you think," Liz said. "At least it all ended on a friendly note."

"Still," Soul said, "sorry to hear it. How about you, Liz?"

"I got myself a nice girl who just moved here last year. She isn't a weapon or meister, I just wanted to have a slice of normal in my life."

The thought definitely sounded nice to Soul, but he had to ask the obvious. "Really? Didn't know you rolled that way Liz, since when?"

Liz shot back, "Since you've been an asshole, Soul. Oh wait, you always have." They both started laughing, and Tsubaki joined in once she understood it was all in good fun. Soul and Liz were closer than people seemed to realize, since she felt like the only person that couldn't care less about his baggage as long as they could have a good time. He missed her _way_ more than he had realized.

"Anyways, how's everyone else been?"

Liz could read his mind. "You mean Maka?"

Soul sputtered, "I- I mean, Maka too, not that I care that much."

"Sure, and I bet you never had a thing for her." She swore she saw Soul blush, though he would never admit it. "She's a teacher at the DWMA now, along with Black Star and Tsubaki here."

Soul would have shot back in response to her accusation, he couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of what she had just said. "Black Star? A teacher? You're fucking with me, Liz."

"She's telling the truth, and he's actually really good at it. He connects with the students better than someone more intense like Maka," Tsubaki said.

"Well, that's not exactly a shocker. Five bucks says she's already brought a student to tears in a lecture." He gave a small smirk and crossed his legs, leaning back. He had meant that to be funny, but he got the feeling it had come across as being bitter. _Whoops._

Liz picked back up where she left off, hoping to sidestep Soul's pointed comment: "There's something I should tell you, though, Soul. Maka and Kid got engaged last June."

Soul thought it might happen, but that didn't prepare him for hearing it. He kept a straight face as he said, "Are they happy together?"

"Yeah, they never left their honeymoon phase. The wedding is in about a month."

Soul frowned and looked out the window at the Nevada desert lying just beyond the freeway. They couldn't see him hurt by the news. They just _couldn't_.

The last ten minutes of the car ride were mostly silent. Liz and Tsubaki always could tell how Soul felt in a way that no one else was able to. Black Star and Patty were too immature, and it felt like Kid and Maka were too wrapped up in their own world the last year or two he lived there to put together the pieces of why he had changed so much. They had always just chalked it up to restlessness - it was only a half-truth, but that had clearly been enough for them.

Liz and Tsubaki, though? They were always watching, always concerned. He had appreciated that at times.

As they neared the DWMA, Soul couldn't help but ask: "So did Kid have you come get me? I told him I'd just take a cab."

"And I couldn't just let you, could I?" Liz said with a wide smile. "I'm working as his secretary these days, so it wasn't hard to find your flight info. Were you happy to see us?"

"I was, actually. It's nice to see some familiar faces. Makes me feel at home again." He gave a hint of a gentle smile that both of them managed to catch.

They were surprised, but happy at his sincerity. Soul was hardly the warmest of of the group, so the gratitude was all the more special.

They got out of the car at the academy, and Soul took a moment to take it all in. Death City and the DWMA had always felt so distant the last few years he lived there, but looking at it now, it seemed just a little closer.

"You should go up and talk to Kid before anything, I know you two are going to want to catch up and figure things out now that you're the head death scythe. I hooked you up with a place here so you'll always be close to Kid, you'll like it. I'll check it out with you when you're done. In the meantime," she gestured to Tsubaki, "we need to get to work."

"Sounds good then." With that, Soul began climbing the steps back up to his old haunt and gave a wave to Liz and Tsubaki, who had their own lives to live and jobs to go to. For him, though, it was time to see his boss.

* * *

A/N: So... sorry again about that wait. On the bright side, I love the idea of Soul and Liz having a bromance, and it would have been a shame not to have some fun with it. I was a little concerned about adding an OC to the story, but she's there for a reason and I planned on fleshing out her uncanny similarity to Maka through flashbacks. The next chapter should be coming in a week or so!


End file.
